


Gratulerer Med Dagen, My Isak

by XioNin



Series: The In-Between (Sesong 4) [10]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Isak's Birthday, M/M, Soft and Fluffy, julie andem damn neared killed us all on Isak's birthday, light angst probably, talk of the future, this is a resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XioNin/pseuds/XioNin
Summary: It's Isak's 18th birthday.





	1. Firefly

On a late evening in early summer, when Even was two years old, he saw a firefly. He’s not sure why this particular memory surfaces every once in a while. Wasn’t even sure it _was_ a memory until, oh, about three months ago when he met Isak’s mother.

“My beautiful son was born at 21:21 on the 21st of June,” she’d said.

And – bam! The memory had flooded his brain that night, stealing into his dreams. He’d woken up with a clear recollection of a glowing green luminescence and softly batting wings. Remembered being mesmerized by a swarm of them, dancing against the backdrop of the forest that surrounded his parents’ cabin.

Two years old is too young to remember such a thing, but Even had. Suddenly, he had and it hasn’t left him since. So he calls his mother to ask.

“Oh my,” she says with a smile in her voice. Even loves her voice. “I can’t believe you remember that, you were so small.”

“We were on the back deck, right?”

“Yes,” she confirms. “You had seen one in your bedroom window and begged me to go out and find more. We didn’t have to go far, they were just behind the cabin. Hundreds of them. So beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Even agrees. But his mind isn’t entirely on the lightning bugs. “Was it June?”

“Hmm?” His mother’s voice has taken on the dreamy quality of someone lost in memories.

“That time we were there, was it in June?”

“Yes,” she says, more laughter in her voice. “I really can’t believe you remember.”

“I had on one of your blouses,” he says, remembering more as they speak. “A pink one.”

His mother’s soft chuckle has him smiling from ear to ear. “Yes. You wanted a pink dress like the one you’d seen on a little girl at the lake.”

Even laughs. “Oh yeah, I kinda remember that.”

“But how?”

Good question.

“Mamma…do you…?” Even takes a breath, hedging his next question because he’d not sure how she’ll take it.

Will she think he’s on the cusp of an episode?

“Spit it out, baby boy.”

He smiles. “Tomorrow is Isak’s birthday.”

“Oh!” He can hear the excitement in her voice and it warms him. “Even, shame on you. Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I…”

He rubs the back of his neck, wondering how he’d forgotten to mention to her. He tells her everything else. Well, almost everything.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spring it on you at the last minute.”

“It’s early yet, I can still get him something nice.”

Even can hear her wheels turning.

“Thanks, mamma. It’s not necessary, but…thanks.”

“Even, love. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he rushes to assure her. “Nothing, I just…that night, at the cabin, was it…was it the summer solstice?”

She’s silent for a moment. “I…yes. I think so, yes. Why?”

Even’s pulse ticks up.

Since the first time he laid eyes on Isak Valtersen, he’s felt the hand of inevitability sitting gently on his shoulder. Pushing him forward, toward Isak. Pulling them together.

After all, he’d had some choices after Bakka. He could have gone to Persbråten or any number of schools. But he’d been drawn to Nissen. He hadn’t known why until the first day of classes when he watched Isak amble into the schoolyard wearing his armour. Snapback. Hoodie. Jacket. Mask of indifference.

Isak had glowed when the sunlight hit his face, and Even was gone in an instant. Even if he hadn’t known it at the time, Isak owned him.

“Mamma, do you believe in fate?”

“Hmm,” she hums, thoughtfully. “I believe that some things are fated, yes, but that we still have free will. If we feel fate pulling our strings, we still have the ability to cut them.”

“What if you don’t want to cut them? What if you want to tie them tighter around you, bind yourself up in them?”

“Even?”

He’s beginning to alarm her, he can tell by her tone.

“I’m alright, mom.”

“Okay.”

She exhales and Even grips the phone a little tighter, suddenly wishing he weren’t alone in his and Isak’s studio apartment, but instead sitting somewhere with her.

“This isn’t random, I promise.”

She chuckles, clearly relieved. “Okay, love. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Isak...”

“Isn’t it always Isak?” Her soft laugh fills Even’s belly with bubbles. He knows she loves Isak already.

“Yeah,” he answers easily. “It is always Isak.”

There’s a stretch of silence before she says anything more, but Even knows his mother. Knows she’s already weaving together the threads of his thought process.

“Fireflies burn so brightly,” she begins, her voice calm. Soothing. “They’re beautitful, but sad. Because they perish without their freedom. They’re so elusive. Intriguing. And when you catch one, when you capture it and put it in a jar and long to hold onto it, they expire.”

“Mamma…”

“Your Isak isn’t a firefly, darling. You are.”

Even frowns. “Me?”

“We tried to put you in a jar. Poked holes in the lid to let you breathe, sure, but we confined you for a time. Me, your father…” She pauses. “Sonja.”

“Only because you care.”

“We do, we all do, but Isak…Isak sees you for who you are. He lets you soar. He needs you to do the same for him.”

And…wow. That’s…wow.

“You’re such a romantic, Even. You’re always looking for the epic tale. But, sweetheart, you and Isak, you’re epic all by yourselves. Don’t you see? You don’t need signs or fireflies or omens or fate, you’re you. He is Isak. You were bound to fall…” She takes a breath, seeming to hesitate. “You are, aren’t you? In love with him?”

Even exhales a shaky breath. “Desperately. Irrevocably.”

He can hear her smile.

“A solstice child. A summer son. And you from winter. It’s perfect.”

“I want to spend my forever with him.”

She laughs softly. “I know.”

“You do?”

“Of course,” she chides affectionately. “I know my son. I see those stars in your eyes whenever you talk to us about him. And, geez, the way you look at him…”

Even laughs. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“For what? It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. And I’ve never seen you look at anyone else that way.”

“No,” he says. It’s all he can say. “No.”

“Just…go slowly, love. You and Isak have all the time in the world. Go slowly. I know you, my little prince of grand gestures.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he teases. Because he can. Because this is his mother and she understands.

“You want to ask him, don’t you?”

It’s not even a question.

“You think I should wait.”

“You do what’s in your heart, but let your head in on the conversation. He’s eighteen. You’re going to be at university. Your lives…will change a bit.”

Panic seeps into Even’s lungs. “I can’t lose him.”

“And you won’t, that’s not what I mean.”

Even hears shuffling in the background and pictures her resettling on their sofa at home. Well, their home. His is here, in this tiny flat, with his greatest love.

“We talk about the future all the time,” he says, hoping to get her more on his side.

“I’m glad. You should.”

“Mamma, I…he’s it.”

“I know. And I will bet you anything that he knows too, even if you haven’t told him.”

“Not in those words.”

“In any words?”

“We…don’t have to.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.” Her tone brightens. “But tell me, what do you have planned for his birthday?”


	2. Midnight Sun

_Danse for deg med hopp og sprett og spring,_

_ønske deg av hjertet alle gode ting!_

Even sings into Isak’s skin, letting his lips brush along his goosebumps, and Isak is giggling.

It’s such a happy sound that Even’s heart clenches. He wants this. Wants always to have a squirming, laughing, naked Isak at his fingertips.

_Og si meg så, hva vil du mere?_

_Gratulere!_

“You’re off your meds,” he says, the little fucker. Even attacks his sides.

Isak is so ticklish, and he deserves to suffer after a crack like that.

“Drittsekk.”

“You love me,” Isak sighs, catching his breath when Even relents.

He doesn’t respond, only falls to his back and pulls Isak closer. He runs his fingers through Isak’s thick, blonde curls and exhales a contented breath.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

Isak snuggles into him, burying his face in Even’s neck, tossing one long leg over Even’s, trapping him. He’s all heat and skin and…a very noticeable erection.

It presses into Even’s side and…yeah.

“Midnight on the nose,” Isak mumbles into Even’s skin. His breath is warm, slightly scented with malt. “I can already tell this is going to be the best birthday ever.”

“Yeah?” Even is smiling so wide his face hurts. “What makes you say that?”

Isak lifts his head, propping himself up on one elbow, and peers down at Even. His expression soft and serious.

“You’re here.” Isak raises one hand and cups Even’s cheek. “You’re here, Evy.”

Isak says this as if it’s a new thing. As if he can’t quite believe it. He says it with awe and more than a little disbelief, and Even’s heart knocks against his rib cage because he is the one in awe. He is the one in a permanent state of disbelief that he gets to have this.

Gets to have _him_.

He turns to his side to face Isak.

“Where else would I be but by you?”

Isak drops his gaze to their mattress and shrugs one shoulder. “It still surprises me sometimes, being here.” He looks up from under his lashes. “Us like this.”

Isak shakes his head, a little smile curving his delectable mouth before he speaks again.

Even is relieved to see it.

“My life has changed so much since I met you, I mean…” He props his head on his hand, using the other to trace patterns over Even’s bare chest.

They’re whispering. They don’t need to, but it still feels right.

“Sometimes I think about a year ago, just one year and…a-a-and it feels like someone else’s life. But then _this_ sometimes feels like someone else’s life too. Only this one…” He flattens his hand over Even’s sternum. “This one I want to keep.”

Even nods because he can’t speak past the lump in his throat.

“You too?” Isak asks, his eyes wide in the low light. They twinkle…like two bowls filled with fireflies.

Even nods again.

“Cat got your tongue?” Isak grins, plucking a hair out of Even’s chest.

He yelps. “Ouch! Fuck, Isak.”

His boyfriend leans over to ease the sting with a sweep of his tongue and it’s…oh…

“Fuck…Isak…”

“Hmm?”

Isak slides down the mattress, trails his lips down Even’s quivering belly, stopping just above his bobbing, needy prick. Even feels a hot breath there before his boyfriend moves to the side and presses a kiss to his pelvis.

He laughs through a shaky breath. “Tease.”

Green eyes find his from under a curtain of blonde hair.

“Come here,” Even commands and Isak obeys, a naughty glint in his eye as he crawls toward him. Jesus, he is so damn sexy Even might spontaneously combust.

As soon as he’s within reach, Even grabs him, pulling Isak into his arms. He hears the soft exhale. Feels Isak surrender, boneless and yet still greedy.

They kiss, and it moves from hot to sweet to smoldering within seconds. By the time Even releases Isak, they’re both breathless.

Their gazes lock and Even begins to free-fall. He is a weightless, non-corporeal beam of energy floating somewhere in space. And Isak is right there with him. He can see it in his eyes.

“Thank you for today,” Isak says, his gaze intense.

Even loves when Isak gets like this. He can barely breathe when Isak gets like this. He can’t think, can’t worry, can’t do anything but _feel_ when Isak gets like this. When his eyes are forest green, and his mouth is candy apple red, and his skin the colour of lust.

“What if it sucks?” Even doesn’t recognize his own voice, he’s so starved.

“It won’t,” Isak replies, completely convinced of it, gaze locked on Even’s mouth. “Especially if maybe it starts, like, right now.”

Even smiles and runs his fingers through Isak’s hair. Slides a hand down the taut muscle of Isak’s back, down to his lovely dimpled ass. Cupping it.

“Baby, it’s already begun.”


	3. Parken

The grass is cool under Isak’s fingertips. Cool and fresh and perfect. Everything about this day has been perfect so far. Well…

He’s trying, but he can’t shake the image of that douchecanoe yelling at him and Even. Can’t shake the things he’d said. The venom in the words.

Isak is not used to being on the receiving end of that much hate. And he feels like a complete asshole when he thinks about some of the things _he_ used to say. Fuck, just…fuck.

“Isak?”

Even’s been lazily trailing his fingers through Isak’s hair all day. It’s getting long. He’s thought about cutting it, but if having hair in his eyes means getting more time with Even’s hands on him, Isak will gladly grow it down to his ankles. Okay, maybe not but you get the general idea.

Lying on the grass in Urra, under the shade of a tree while just about everyone that Isak cares about eats and drinks and laughs all around him, Isak thinks he might die from the perfection of it all.

Magnus and Vilde are by the pond. He holds her hand while she steps into the water, just to her ankles. He pretends he’s going to push her in and she’s giggling, making high-pitched squeals that sound a little too forced to be real. Like she’s on the set of some insipid romantic comedy.

Isak’s still not sure what to make of her, but as long as Magnus is happy, he’s happy. He’ll have to ask Magnus if he is.

Because Isak is so ridiculously happy his blood fizzes. He’s an effervescent bottle of carbonated joy and it’s getting harder and harder to contain it.

“Isak.”

He blinks up at Even, the sun creating a halo out of the waves of his hair. “Hmm?”

“Do you want another burger?”

He shakes his head. “Nei.”

“He’s already had three,” Jonas says, kicking his foot out at Isak’s shin.

Isak turns his head where it rests on Even’s thigh and catches Jonas’ eye. There’s humour there. Affection. Something else Isak doesn’t have a name for.

They lock eyes and it becomes a conversation.

_Are you happy?_

_Yes, I am._

_I’m happy for you._

_Thanks, bro._

Eye roll.

_Bro?_

_You know what I mean. Thank you._

_Anything for you, Isak. Anything._

Isak nods and Jonas smiles. It’s all so chill.

“How many tomatoes do you think it takes to make one bottle of ketchup?”

Isak shakes his head. He should be used to Magnus’s questions by now, his random musings.

He sits cross-legged on the blanket that Vilde brought for them while she wanders over to the rest of the girls, Chris and Eva. And William, who has stayed glued to Noora’s side.

That guy.

Still, Noora seems happy too. Ecstatic, even, but Isak hasn’t forgotten the heartbreak in her voice when she spoke about him after coming back to Oslo. He hopes it works out for her this time. She’s a sweet girl.

It’s a good group. The only one missing is Sana, and Isak really does miss her. But he supposes that hanging around while people stuff their faces and drink beer isn’t fun in the best of times, much less during a fast.

Doesn’t stop him from wishing she were here.

“What’re you thinking about so hard?” Even runs the tip of one finger across Isak’s forehead.

He smiles up at him. “Everything. Everyone.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Even chuckles. “Well, there’s more to come, so…”

Isak sits up on his elbows. “More?”

Even nods, grinning. “Did you really think this was all I’d do for your eighteenth?”

“It’s enough, Even. More than enough. It's too much.”

“ _Ingenting er for mye for deg, Isak_. Besides, you still haven’t found the video I made for you.”

“What?” Magnus nearly chokes on his Tuborg. “You haven’t seen it? What do you mean you haven’t seen it?”

“Dude, I’ve watched it five times,” Jonas says, laughing and shaking his head.

“Watched what?” Eva walks over and sits next to Even, and Isak is suddenly petrified.

What is this video? He looks at Even whose gaze hasn’t left Isak’s face.

“What did you do?”

In lieu of answering, Even hands Isak his phone.

“Just press play.”

 


	4. Through Even's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He did it. He really did it.

Isak is seething. Not really, but really. He’d been just about to finally, _finally_ , see this infamous video or whatever when Even’s mom called to wish him a happy birthday.

And then the group had whisked him away to the real party, back at the kollektiv.

It’s strange being back here as an outsider. The dynamics have changed since he moved out and Noora moved back in. And he’s learned they’re about to change again.

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” He asks Noora when she tells him about her plans with William.

She grins, her expression incredulous. “You’re asking me if it’s too soon to move in with my boyfriend? You? How long were you and Even together before you shacked up?”

“That was different,” Isak grouses. “It was to help you out.”

She laughs and he does too. “Oh, so generous of you, Isak. To move in with your supermodel to help out poor little me.”

She shoves him playfully and he pulls her into a hug.

“Whatever, just be careful. Don’t let him dick you around.”

“Aww,” she coos, peering up at him. “You care.”

“I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“Yes he is,” says Even as he strolls up behind them. He wraps his long arms around them both. “Kosegruppa hug!”

"Kosegruppa, yay!"

Isak squirms, but laughs. He extracts himself from the pile, leaning up to peck Even on the cheek.

“I’ll be back.”

Even raises his eyebrows and Isak takes his phone out of his pocket. He’s been dying to see the video. Dying.

Even gives him a nod and the warmest, sweetest smile.

Isak heads back to his room…er…Noora’s room and closes the door behind him.

Jesus, she so _neat_ and clean. It doesn’t look anything like it had when he lived here.

He pulls out her desk chair to sit and balances the phone in his hands.

The title he’d caught a glimpse of in the park, but nothing else. And he’s amazed by how many times it’s been viewed. Do they even know this many people?

As soon as it starts, he’s ready to kill him.

So what if he’s a little scared to drive? A lot of people are. Did Even need to broadcast it to the entire fucking world?

But the way he’s looking at Isak, like it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Like it’s endearing and adorable.

Is this how Even sees him?

The little moments that flicker across the screen – him playing FIFA, him picking up after them, him doing the dishes – this is not what he had been expecting.

There’s so much here. So much that’s theirs and only theirs that Isak is torn between feeling proud and feeling horribly exposed.

And now they’re kissing. And kissing. Another in bed, and the smiles. The laughter. When did he do all of this?

Isak has some vague memories of these little snapshots, but Even always has his camera on. He’s addicted to filming and shooting everything, so Isak stopped noticing.

But this…

New Year’s Eve in their suits, dancing in the mirror.

Their first weekend together-together at the kollektiv when they’d barely left Isak’s room.

The hands, their hands, always clasped in some way. They’re always touching. Isak had known this, but seeing it. Seeing it all through Even’s eyes…

He’s always aware of how Even looks at him, like he painted the sky blue and breathed puffy clouds into it, but Isak isn’t prepared to see the way _he_ looks at Even.

He loves him. He’s in love with him. He knows this, intellectually and physically, but seeing it is something else entirely.

Even is his whole world.

And he is Even’s.

And it is so painfully, blissfully, obnoxiously clear to anyone who watches that they belong with one another. Belong to one another.

By the time the one-minute-and-fifty-second video ends, Isak can’t breathe.

It’s the music choice, because of course it’s Gabrielle. It’s the lens itself, Even’s eyes.

It’s the last shot of Isak sleeping on Even’s chest, dead to the world. The way Even holds him, watches over him, looks to the heavens as if he can’t quite believe…

Isak opens messenger, blinking through watery eyes.

_Fy faen_

_Jeg elsker deg…_

“Hey,” Even comes in and closes the door behind him.

Isak is in his arms in a flash, hugging him tight. Tight. Tight. Tighter, and Even hugs him back.

“We need to go home,” he says into Even’s neck before leaning back to meet his eyes.

“The party?”

Isak shakes his head. “Unless you want to defile Noora’s pristine sheets, we need to leave right now.”

Even’s eyebrows lift. “We better make our goodbyes.”

Isak shakes his head. “No time.”

He grabs Even's hand and pulls him into the hall. They shove their feet into their shoes, push their arms sort of in their jackets, and are out the back door.

When they get to the street, he fires off a text to Eskild.

_Sorry, we had to go. Thanks for everything._

_Baby Jesus! You can’t bail on your own party!_

_Have you seen my boyfriend? Yes we can._

_You’re right. Yes you can. Do everything I would do._

_Ugh. Shut up! Later, guru._

_Happy Birthday, Isak._


	5. Angelfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't much of a debate, really.

After splurging on a taxi and getting a stern talking-to by the driver for their backseat antics – they were only kissing - Even and Isak arrive at their flat. They’d stuck to holding hands for the duration of the ride, and are holding hands still when they get to the door of their building.

“You have to let go so I can open the door, babe.”

Isak shakes his head, his eyes heavy-lidded. Even wonders just how much he’s had to drink. Then a hand, not his own, slips into his front pocket and fishes out his ring of keys.

Isak hands them to him. “See? You don’t have to let go.”

Even nods. “Okay, then.”

Isak’s eyelids flutter once...twice. He’s looking at Even so intently, and yet he can't read the expression on Isak’s face.

Now he’s wondering if he did something wrong. If maybe the video was too much, had revealed too much of _them_ to the world.

“Evy.”

“Huh?”

“The door?” Isak grins.

“Oh, right.” Even chuckles, opening it.

They repeat the routine at the door to their apartment. Once inside, Isak does let go, but only long enough to kick off his shoes. He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the back of one of their dinette chairs.

Even sticks his on  peg by the door. When he turns around, Isak is standing in the middle of the room.

“I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?” Even eases forward and takes Isak’s hips into his hands, suddenly nervous.

Isak hooks his fingers through Even’s two front beltloops. “I fucking love you. So fucking much.”

Oh.

Isak looks like he’s on the verge of something and Even doesn’t know what. It’s the light in his eyes, and the way his lips are parted. As if they’re trying to taste the words on the air, whatever words he wants to say.

He licks his lips and Even can’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Isak responds eagerly, a little too eagerly.

Even leans back, bringing the kiss to a close, and studies his boyfriend. He tightens his grip on Isak’s hips.

“Talk to me.”

Isak shakes his head. “I don’t have the words.”

Even smiles. “Try.”

He raises one hand to run his fingers back through Isak’s hair, marveling at how Isak leans toward his touch. Always. Like Even is a magnet and Isak can’t resist.

And that blows his fucking mind, it does. Because he feels the exact same way. Could it be that they both feel the same about each other? Is it even possible?

Even thinks back to the conversation with his mother, urging caution. Patience. As if he needed a reminder that either were absolutely vital if he was going to keep this man in his life.

But what if…

“Have you ever seen a French angelfish?”

Isak frowns, his lips pushing out into a pout. It’s fucking adorable.

“Uh…nei?”

“Oh, well they’re gorgeous. Regal, even, with bright, blonde spots all over. Very handsome fish.”

“…Okay.” Now Isak is squinting.

He’s gotten a little more used to Even’s tangential style of conversation, but it still amuses Even to throw him off once in a while. He leads Isak to the edge of their bed and sits, pulling Isak down with him.

He comes willingly, a puzzled look on his face.

“They’re known to pair off, you know? Two-by-two, off out into the world together. Defending each other, spending most if not all of their time together. It’s very…romantic.”

Isak frowns, blinking. “Angelfish.”

“Yeah, _French_ angelfish,” Even reminds him, nodding while he tucks an errant curl behind Isak’s ear. “It’s a widely held belief that they mate for life.”

He averts his eyes, keeping them glued to that one curl that he keeps smoothing, and tucking, and toying with. His thumb trails over the fine, blonde hair along Isak’s jawline.

Isak’s hand lands on Even’s knee. He smooths it up Even’s thigh and squeezes.

“So,” he begins. “These angelfish.”

“French.”

“Sorry, _French_ angelfish, they…stick together.”

Even nods and drops his hand to Isak’s back, rubbing it.

“They look out for each other.”

“Of course,” Even assures him.

“And they…they love each other.”

Even meets Isak’s gaze and gets lost for a moment. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of staring into Isak’s eyes, no matter how long they’re together.

“It’s a widely held belief, yes.” He nods. “They protect each other, support each other, until…well, until one of them dies.”

“Til death parts them.”

Even can’t speak, so he nods again.

Isak’s breathing has changed. It’s become more rapid, and Even can see his pulse hammering away at the base of his throat. He runs a hand over Isak’s hair.

“What do you think of that? Do you think it’s true?”

Isak nods. “Of course it’s true, of course they love each other. They find the one…fish…that they can spend the rest of their life with. Hunt with, presumably, swim with, play with. The one who supports them, no matter how many stupid things they get up to.”

Even chuckles. “What sort of stupid things do fish get up to?”

Isak shrugs. “I dunno. Swimming too close to sharks? Going out too far, o-o-or not far enough. They support each other, encourage each other. Of course it’s love. It’s epic love.”

Even’s laughing now because Isak has gotten himself all worked up.

“Epic, eh?”

“Totally! Like one of your Baz Lurhmann movies.”

Oh, now he’s done it. Even has to kiss him. And once he starts kissing him he can’t stop. They tumble back onto the mattress, smiling and kissing, and Even feels like he could fly. Like the blood in his veins has been replaced with helium and the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth is the man in his arms.

Their kisses turn heated, and Isak keeps his eyes in Even’s. It’s something he rarely does and, when it happens, Even knows exactly what it is. It’s the need to see him. The need to be present in the moment, to not blink through any of it, because this is it. This is them, and it always will be.

He’s so fucking grateful for Isak.

Isak who’s kissing him like it’s the first time, sighing and tasting and moaning a little. Leaning back to meet his eyes before diving in again. Even loves this. Loves him.

He let’s Isak undress him, slowly peeling back the layers and letting cool air touch his overheated skin.

Even slips his hand under Isak’s t-shirt, runs his fingertips over the hard planes of his chest as he lifts the shirt over Isak’s head.

Isak leans over him.

They don’t speak.

Even can barely breathe.

Isak naked is a sight Even will never take for granted. He’s a bloody work of art, his boy. His man. Tan skin and a dusting of light, blonde hair. Toned muscle and clean lines. Even leans up and latches onto the curve of Isak’s neck, earning him a groan.

“Fuck, Even. Want you.”

“Have me.”

Isak really kisses him then, his hunger almost feral as he covers Even’s body with his own. It’s all that Even can do to hold on, to surrender. To give as much as Isak will take, and tonight he seems to want it all.

They collide like two storm clouds, and it's electrifying.

Isak’s fingers play Even’s body like a finely tuned instrument, leaving him squirming and begging. And Even wants Isak inside him so badly he’s close to weeping.

But Isak surprises him. Pulls him up and over when he flips onto his back. And now Even is staring down into those glassy, green eyes. Staring down at those cherry-red lips that Isak keeps licking and biting and _fuck._

“Are you sure?”

Isak nods.

They’ve done this a few times now, but it still blows Even’s mind. That Isak is so trusting, so open, it blows his mind.

They go slow. Even wants to make it good, so good.

Even’s fingers are sticky with lube, and warm from Isak’s body. His cock pulses between his legs and he is so ready to have this. Have him. All of him, forever.

Isak arches his back when he breaches him. Just a touch to start, preparation for what’s to come.

“Do you think it’s love?” His voice is breathy in Even’s ear when he finally eases inside him. The heat and the pressure threaten to break him.

“Huh?”

“The French angelfish. Do you think it’s love? That they really mate for life?”

“You want me to think?” Even pleads. “Right now?”

Isak groans when Even shifts the angle. “God…”

“See? I can’t think when you feel this good.”

“Mmm, yeah. But…do you?”

Even sets a steady pace, languid in his attention.

“Yes, Issy. I do.”

Isak smiles.

Sighs.

Moans.

Opens his eyes into Even’s gaze. “I do too.”

There’s no more talk of fish after that. There's no more talk at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading this ridiculous little series. I hope you enjoyed it. I so wanted to do something for Isak's birthday, and I knew that JA would give us something, but WOW. I had no idea she would shower us with so much. So this story went in a different direction than I'd originally planned. At any rate, I appreciate all of the comments and kudos.
> 
> See you soon,  
> Xio


End file.
